She stepped over the line. She stepped over lots of things, including lines. Her trusty pencil and her walking shoes were her two most prized possessions.
He hated bonsai trees and all that they stood for.
He hated bonsai trees and all that they stood for.
She decided to ignore her best judgment and, instead, took her best friend's advice by putting "that" in her pipe and smoking it. Aside from the near-debilitating cough and occasional disconcerting thick black drool and series of hyper-annoying facial ticks, she was loving everyone minute of it.
He spent the day peeling potatoes, drinking mulled wine and plotting revenge, or in other words, Thursdays.
She always preferred the path of greatest resistance because, although it was very slow and full of friction, she felt that it built character and she was in desperate need of more character especially after all of those years travelling on really easy paths.
He climbed to the top of a tall hill and enjoyed a long, good laugh at all of the smaller hills nearby.
She spent considerable time each morning grooming herself, then grooming her cat, and finally spending a large amount of time looking at herself in the mirror just knowing that the person looking back at her was finally starting to look more and more like her cat. And now, on to step 2 of the plan.
He arrived at the party and checked both his coat as well as his ego at the door as he just loved the combination of being slightly chilly as well as being incredibly selfless.
She bolded and italicized a large number of words in her word processing as she believed it helped the words appear more thrilling and practically leap off the page. In her quieter moments, she often escapes to a fantasy world inhabited by bolded and italicized words that, while thrilling and leaping up and down, were incredibly boring to hang out with.
He spent the better part of his teenage years walking to the beat of his own drum. It was the drum his mother had bought him when he was 12. It was the drum that was always sitting there, in its spot, by the window. It was the drum that, when struck just so, created a beat. A beat that, after all of those years, he could finally walk to. A beat that gave him life. A beat that made him a man. A beat that made him whole again. It was that drum. The drum by the window. Thanks mom.
She cut out strips of black paper. The next day, she cut out strips of white paper. The third day, she cut out strips of gold paper. "There. Who has more strips of paper now, dad?" she remarked with jealously as she knew he still had more.
He walked into the building hoping that they had removed and placed their shirts in a pile as asked, to make his weekly "literal taking shirts off their backs" collection easier. He once figuratively attempted this, but ended up on a small plane headed for Brazil.
She spent her days admiring her golden locks, just longing to be fleeced knowing full well that she had no real idea what that really meant.
He really wanted to run away and join the circus, but it just seemed too obvious and stereotypical as EVERYONE he knows had already done that.
She badly wants to scream out "ME!" whenever her roommate inadvertently calls out "Who let the dogs out?" or "Who keeps on screaming?" or "Who borrowed my phone without asking?" or "Who got blood all over my phone?" or "Who called for an ambulance?" or "Who got da funk?"
He had an overwhelming desire to prune something, anything, just not those plums that were, for all intense and purposes, begging to be pruned. It just seemed wrong and a bit disturbing.
She badly wants to scream out "ME!" whenever her roommate inadvertently calls out "Who let the dogs out?" or "Who keeps on screaming?" or "Who borrowed my phone without asking?" or "Who got blood all over my phone?" or "Who called for an ambulance?" or "Who got da funk?"
He had an overwhelming desire to prune something, anything, just not those plums that were, for all intense and purposes, begging to be pruned. It just seemed wrong and a bit disturbing.
She took a long walk in the woods on a cool, crisp winter's day leaving fresh footprints in the white snow. She was surrounded, on all sides, by tall, majestic trees in all of their beauty. As she walked on, she breathed in the delicious mountain air and felt at one with the nature all around. How she loved the woods on a winter day such as this. Closing her eyes, the world seemed to disappear and time slowed to a halt and she smiled, as she felt so at peace. And then, she became acutely aware that she was the only one in the woods at that moment who was not covered with bark.
